Without Fear, We Don't Get the Chance to be Brave
by prettyredfox
Summary: Okay, I have no idea how to summarize without giving everything away. Lord I suck at these-Bellamy is rescued by Clarke, who is a werewolf. She becomes fiercely overprotective when they meet again and her and the rest of Bellamy's new friends band together to figure out who is trying to sabotage his life. I know I'm bias and my summary sucks, but you should give this a shot!


**Okay, first off, Bellamy is twenty three in this, same age as he is in the TV series, but everyone else is twenty. So, I guess it more goes by the book? Because in the book, he's twenty, but everyone is about seventeen, I think so he's still only three year older instead of almost five. **

**Now, I've made him kind of like a twist between the Bellamy in the book and TV series both, but others might be a little OC. Like Clarke, she's a lot harder to write for than I would've thought.**

The wind was picking up as she made a quick walk into the dark park, the street lights around the area she'd chosen all luckily still broken from the last time she'd knocked them out with rocks. It was a good thing the people who did maintenance and upkeep weren't very astute. Blonde, messy waves of hair whipped around her face and she ducked her head, walking into the trees and out of sight of anyone from the street with a relieved sigh. It'd been weeks since she'd been out here and she was long overdue.

The rush had hit her all at once when she'd been out at dinner. Her mother had set her up on another date-go figure, and the man had been surprisingly attractive this time. Unfortunately, he'd also been very dumb. The need had kicked up in the middle of their appetizer, so strong she'd had to hunch over herself as she fled the expensive restaurant he'd picked out for them. Her mother was not going to be happy with her.

Clarke felt her body stirring, the creature singing through her blood with excitement. It was time to run. The moon was crested and bright in the sky, lighting her way as she stepped out of her boots and removed her jacket, laying it and steadily-the rest of her clothes over a hanging tree branch. Her skin prickled in acknowledgment when she finally stood naked under the moon and shadows of the forest. The beast rumbled at her, preening, whining for attention.

It was time.

Inhaling deeply, Clarke felt the familiar burn as her eyes bled into a brighter, luminescent blue.

Then her back broke. And as many times as she'd done this, she still cried out, going down hard in the dirt and gripping the scattered patches of grass in her fists. Her face elongated and snarled, her canines growing in her mouth, catching on her gums. Her new form slowly ripped free from its confines, fur the color of dirty hay bursting through the splitting seams of her skin. The bones of her legs grew and cracked backwards, her muscles readjusting-thickening.

The change was liberation and horror in one.

Her screams turned to howls that pierced the veil of quiet. _Free, free, free_! Free to hunt- to _eat_. Her growling set the mood, her hunger clouding her mind. It'd been far too long since she'd had the warm, salty tang of blood coating her mouth, sliding down her throat to settle in her belly. She was ravenous. Her beast sang to head towards town, to find a warm body to feast from, but she resisted as she always had. Instead, she trotted on all fours further into the park in hopes of another animal to give her monster chase.

Bellamy had never felt more stupid in his life. Naturally, he was normally a fairly clever guy, and that was as humble as he got on that subject. He had to be, raising and protecting his rebellious, little sister seemed to test his skills set every day. But tonight-he was an idiot and Octavia wouldn't hesitate to tell him so, the brat.

Tonight found him walking alone in the dark, heading home with no wallet, shoes, or a shirt. Not of his own choice, mind you, but it did somehow feel like an inconvenience on his part that he'd somehow failed to avoid. The boys who'd taken his stuff had been fairly younger than him, no older than Octavia, but they'd gotten the best of him anyways. He couldn't care less about his wallet, it wasn't like he had money in it, but it would be annoying to replace his driver's license. And, alas, they'd taken his favorite brown, worn leather jacket and it was one of his most prized possessions. His mother had bought it for him, after he'd graduated from high school. Thank goodness he'd left his phone at home tonight on accident, lord knows he couldn't afford a new one if this one was stolen.

Now, Bellamy was freezing his ass off, hunched in on himself as he shuffled on frozen toes towards town. What he would do when he got there, he had no earthly idea. It wasn't like any cab in their right mind would give him a ride without cash-or a shirt for that matter, and he wasn't looking forward to the long walk back to the apartment he shared with his little sister. She'd fought for an apartment closer to the park when they'd first moved here. He now wished she'd won that fight (she'd won all of the others anyway).

A howl rose up through the surrounding trees and he walked a little faster. There weren't any coyotes out this far into the city, surely, but he wasn't that big of a fan of dogs. Especially in the dark.

Bellamy usually liked walking out in this park-on the few occasions he had the time to. But when he went jogging through it, it was always during daylight (He did sometimes walk to and from work when he didn't have the change to spend on the bus, but he preferred using the longer route to avoid the woods. Tonight, however, he was cold and miserable enough to chance it so he could get home sooner). Everything he passed didn't look anything like the sidewalks and trails he ran through when the sun was up. Tree limbs seemed to reach out further, grabbing at his clothes; shadows seemed darker and more sinister as they threatened to eat him whole. He was a paranoid person at heart, though he fought not to ever show it, so this place had him more than a little skittish.

"_Screw you, I am not afraid_."

The howl sounded closer, almost right in his ear and his back got a shock of cold fear that made the tendons in his neck tighten. His heart started racing, he could feel the vein under his jaw beating wildly-_thump, thump, thump_.

"_Screw you, I am not afraid_."

He picked up the pace, feet slapping the concrete path like a dead fish, all of his nerves frozen and unfeeling. They'd probably be cut to shreds by the time he got back; if he was forced to walk all the way home on the dirty street sidewalks-he had a feeling that was what he would have to do. Octavia would not be happy with him. He didn't even have his cell phone on him to call and tell her he'd be late. She'd probably sit up on the couch all night worrying until she passed out from exhaustion. In the morning, she'd punch him on the shoulder and act like she hadn't been scared out of her mind that he wouldn't return-she was stubborn like that.

"_Screw you, I am not afraid_."

A pair of eyes lit up in the wood, through the trees out of the corner of his eyes like two candles shining through the cutout holes of a jack-o-lantern.

There was a deep growling that seemed to vibrate straight into his gut. Hungry, and mean, a violent whining sounding in his ears like twisting metal. It shocked him into running, taking off like a fucking rocket through the park like his ass was on fire. Another howl penetrated the night in semblance of a war cry, the patter of heavy feet echoing his. He didn't look back-_he couldn't look back_, because he would lose his nerve.

The beast was fast on his trail, but didn't take him down, surprisingly. He could feel it close behind him, hear its strong lungs taking in steady air and yet it didn't close the distance between them. He couldn't see any lights ahead where he would be coming up on a busy street soon, but if he kept up his pace, maybe he would make it before the creature caught him.

The night air was different tonight, the breeze kicking back the smell of one of her own into her nose as she ran. She didn't like it. Sometimes, she would run with some of the others that lived near, would play and remember the feeling of being a part of a unit-a pack. Wolves were social creatures, even if she wasn't strictly a wolf.

But the beast Clarke scented tonight sent her hackles rising, her teeth aching. It smelled wicked and almost sick, the stink of its fur filling up the park around her. She didn't want anywhere near this creature. In its state, the thing would be eager for a fight and she wasn't desperate for new wounds. Sure, they healed fast, but if they were deep enough she'd still have them when she shifted back later and healing in her human form exhausted her.

The wolf's scent tracked back closer to a popular trial, though it was usually only popular during daylight hour, and she felt a trace of worry. Her kind knew better than that, surely she could depend on this fowl smelling thing to not do anything stupid that would put anyone in danger, right?

At first, the wolf's smell was so overpowering, she almost didn't smell the scent underneath it. The smell was that of a human male, masculine and clean-with a hint of leather and honey smoke. Her wolf rumbled in satisfaction and wanted immediately to track down the owner of the smell.

_And what? Roll around on top of him like a dead animal?_ Her wolf was so weird sometimes. And yet, she continued following the trail through the trees with her nose in the air and her eyes on the ground around her. Belly rumbling, she hoped for a rabbit to brave the cold and come out of its burrow, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't happen tonight. Maybe she had some steak at home in her freezer that she could eat later, that'd be nice.

A howl rang out a ways up the trail ahead, the signal for a hunt-to eat, and she knew in her gut right away what the other wolf had decided on for its next meal-the smell of the human was the only recent scent of life in the park tonight. She burst out of the trees in a spray of dull gold as she began to full out run. _No way, no way_. They didn't hunt humans anymore! This was unethical and wholly unnecessary. They weren't savages and the beast could be controlled-there were plenty of other options if it was hungry.

Clarke picked up speed, hearing the fearful breathing and rushing heartbeat as she neared the beast and its intended kill. The wolf was playing, teasing its prey into a panic, running just behind the fleeing male at a leisurely pace. Its coat gleamed a muddy brown, almost black in the moonlight, lean and yet just as large in size as she. Its fur was snarled and matted with wood and what appeared to be bloodied animal. _Ah, a messy eater_. It seemed this beast had already eaten tonight-what was it doing going after a person?

The human male was sprinting at a decent pace, though not nearly quick enough to outrun a wolf, if said wolf was actually trying. His pale chest and feet shone, sweat glistening on his skin as his dark hair curled, damp with sweat around his forehead and neck. His fresh scent her wolf had so adored before was now polluted by fear, tangy and desperate on her tongue.

The other wolf knew she was there, of course it did, and it gave an angered snort and swiped out with a huge paw, catching on the human's jeans-possibly skin- and bringing him down to smack against the concrete. Then, it faced her, eyes large and a fierce, poisonous yellow. The wolf's lips pulled back to show her its teeth in warning and its wicked smell made her hackles rise.

Clarke growled low, giving her own warning as her eyes went to the fallen human, before shifting back to the matter at hand. The other wolf was already lunging at her, teeth bared as they went for her throat. She danced out of the way with a surprised yip-the beast must be crazed, it appeared more animal than person. It did happen sometimes with her kind, as her father had once warned her.

_Control_, they had to have _control_ if they wanted to live freely amongst normal people. Act like a savage, die like a savage her father had taught her. Control the blood lust.

The wolf stalked forwards, its ferocity leaking into every sure step it took towards her. It took a swipe at her when it got close enough and she moved easily out of the way, twisting to a stop on its left, once again out of range for its attack. She'd always been fast. Even when she was little her father wouldn't be able to catch her in this form unless she wanted him to.

The human sat up slowly, though if it was out of fear or pain, she didn't know. The other wolf took notice, of course. With a bark, she nipped at its ruff, keeping its attention on her. Hopefully, the human would take his chance. She kept her own focus on the wolf's large, discolored teeth. If it hit her with those claws, it would hurt, sure, but the end results wouldn't be nearly as bad as it would be if she got her neck caught in its massive jaws. That would spell her death. Its eyes burned with aggression, coming at her with jerky, crazed movements that she struggled to keep up with simply because of how unpredictable they were.

A heavy paw caught her in the side, claws dragging against the bones of her rib cage as she jerked free with a cry of pain. Bright blood, the first blood drawn, splattered the concrete path and the wolf seemed to smile at her. _Bastard_. Her next move was an attack, instead of the defensive technics she'd been using to give the human time to escape. Keeping low to the ground, Clarke snapped out like a viper, teeth grazing a furry chest before digging in until blood was flowing thick into her mouth. She nearly gagged-the creature tasted bitter and somehow just wrong-and she struggled not to swallow any. With a great bellow, the beast tried to shake her loose, but she bit down harder and held on, growling low in her chest.

The moon seemed to twinkle in the sky, egging them on, baying for a victor.

Finally, with a fierce shake and a yowl, the wolf threw her off, the skin on its chest going with her as she landed a few feet away. Panting and spitting out foul blood and skin, Clarke shot up to her feet to glare.

She felt it was getting ready to strike again, got ready to counterattack- and then, the other wolf was gone. Without so much as a backwards glance, the creature took off into the trees, bleeding as it ran. There was a flash of muddied colors and the fight was finished, her wolf cooing in satisfaction.

Her eyes flashed over to where she'd last seen the human male. He was gone as well. She was once more, alone, and while she was glad the human had seen the opportunity to escape, she was also disappointed. She'd probably never see him again.

Clarke shook the blood from her fur and huffed in displeasure, staring down the path that led out of the park.

The adrenaline had him running without any pain until he reached the street, the rush of fear that was lingering ensured that he didn't stop for the crosswalk like he should and he got a couple of car horns for it. He was shaking and hurting badly when he finally reached the sidewalk across from the dark park and still, the busy street between him and the path almost hidden by the tree line wasn't enough to settle him.

Bellamy glanced down at his leg, taking in his ripped pants damp with blood, his scrapped palms stinging at his side. He would never catch a taxi like this.

Heaving a weary sigh, he started his walk home, wincing with every step he accomplished. A few cars slowed beside him as he made his trek, before driving on after they'd caught a good look at him. Hopefully, none of them would call the police. That would just top off his awful night so nicely. He probably needed a hospital, but those cost money neither him nor Octavia could afford to spend.

Not for the first time today, he wished his mother was still alive. She would know what to do.

_"__Now, I need you to hide, Octavia. You know where, sugar, don't come out until mommy says so." His mother said quietly, her dark hair in a stringy, messy bun, lipstick smeared in a way it hadn't been earlier when she'd left the house. She tried to hide it, but he could always see the things she did for money, to keep them from starving in their too tiny apartment. _

_"__Mommy, I don't want to." Octavia said sadly, lower lip quivering. She was small for her age, dress hanging off one of her shoulders as she gripped her cheap, stuffed rabbit close to her chest. "It's dark and I can't move in there." _

_Bellamy hated to make her go down in the small space in the wall they'd hollowed out for her. It was cold and cramped and when they placed the small, flimsy wardrobe in front of it, it was pitch black. But he also knew it was necessary. If social services found out that their mother was trying to take care of two children on her small salary, they would take Octavia away, and possibly him, too. Since he could remember, a social worker would drop by out of the blue every month or so to check in on him, ask him if his mother treated him right, if he got enough to eat, etc. _

_He'd asked Aurora Blake before why the people cared so much and why they couldn't just leave them alone. She'd gone as pale as a sheet and ordered him to go to his room, her voice cracking and her hands shaking as she went for the bottle of tequila beside her. He hadn't asked again. _

_Their apartment was dirty and infested with roaches and the occasional rat. They had one bedroom and a futon out in the living room. His mother tried to keep it as clean as she could, show everyone that she was a capable provider. As he got older, they grew more hesitant to take him away, knowing his chances in a home were slim. But if they found Octavia, that would be it for their family. Sure, they got less than enough food to keep their stomachs from growling and aching at night, but they were together. And just the thought of being separated from either of them had Bellamy's heart racing in alarm. _

_"__It won't be for long hopefully, sweetheart. Please, now, you have to hurry."_

_The visits to their home were at random, and yet his mother always seemed to know before hand when they were coming. Already, he could hear heavy footsteps echoing down the hall. _

_"__I don't want to." Octavia started to cry silently, her little body shaking as she struggled to keep her sobs quiet. "Please don't make me."_

_"__Remember what I told you?" His mother reached out, grabbing his sister's shoulders in a strong grip, eyes wide and growing more panicked as a knock rang loud from the front door. "I am not afraid. Say it, repeat it to yourself. I am not afraid."_

_"__I-I am…"_

_"__Say it, Octavia." The men outside their door called out his mother's name, sounding sharp and impatient. _

_"__I am not a-afraid." _

_"__Good girl." With a kiss of approval on her youngest child's forehead, she helped her daughter into the hole in the wall._

Blinking, Bellamy realized he was nearly home, his dingy apartment-not unlike the one they'd had when their mother had been alive-was within sight. His feet stung and left speckles of red in his wake. There was no way he could sneak his condition by his sister if she still happened to be awake.

He got lucky. Upon entering his home, he was greeted by Octavia's gentle snoring, something she insisted she did not do. She was curled up on their ratty couch in her sleep shirt and a loose pair of shorts, small blanket slipping off her legs as the television talked lowly in the background.

Giving a fond, tired smile, he limped inside quietly, locking the deadbolt behind him before walking over to flick off the TV. Normally, he would pick her up and carefully carry her to her bedroom. She would huff in annoyance at him for being woken up, but then she would wrap her arms around his neck and bury her face in, grateful and happy that he'd returned. As much as he hated leaving her on the couch where she would wake up sore and cramped, he didn't have the strength to pick her up and not drop her tonight. He gave a reluctant sigh and pulled her blanket up to her shoulder, brushing his fingers over her hair being held in the messy bun she liked to put it in before she went to bed.

She would be fine. The heater was working, rattling on in its familiar way as it worked overtime just to keep their apartment at a decent temperature, so she'd be as comfortable as possible. He still didn't like it.

With a soft kiss to her forehead, he headed to the shared bathroom to get cleaned up.

The second it was light enough, her mother was calling her to ask why she'd run out on her date with Brad. Or was it Brandon? How her mother knew about her failed date already, she had no idea. The guy probably had her mom on speed dial and had called to tattle on her.

"I just don't understand, Clarke. Chris was such a nice guy and he really seemed to like you." _Ahh, Chris that was it_.

"Mom. He doesn't know me. Literally, the whole half an hour we talked it was about him. Don't get me wrong, he seemed really interested in the topic, but I had other things to do."

She'd woken this morning after crawling into bed around four a.m. to her mother calling her cell phone repeatedly and knew that if she didn't answer-the sound would never stop. Sore and just barely healed after only _three hours_ of sleep, she was more than a little cranky. She couldn't stop thinking about the guy and whether he'd made it home okay. Or why the wolf had attacked him in the first place.

"Honey." Her mother sighed, not sounding angry, but wholly _disappointed in her_. Which, let's face it, that was worse than anger. "I just don't want you to be alone. Since your father, you've been so distant. And now you've moved out-"

"I'm sorry." Clarke interrupted, her voice sounding cold and fabricated even to her. She hated it when her father was brought into their fights. "I've got to go, mom, I'll have to talk to you later."

"Oh, Clarke. Okay, I love you. I'll talk to you later."

"Love you, too." She pressed the 'end call' button before her mother could respond again. She did love her mother, honest, but since her father's death; they'd been a little strained. Something held her back every time she talked to Abby Griffin and she didn't think it was just on her end.

She had half a mind to just roll over and call it day, but since she was awake, she might as well run a few errands. Besides, it was a nice morning and she felt nearly eager to get out and enjoy the day.

Bellamy never wanted to see another damn morning as long as he lived. Crazy thought, he knew but the second that stupid ass sunbeam hit his window, it was impossible to block out the light smacking him right in the face. He felt like complete and utter shit and immediately decided there was nothing on this earth that could get him to move today. Not even if his ugly apartment caught fire, he'd just lay here and let himself burn alive before moving a single appendage.

He was lying in bed and trying very hard to go back to sleep and forget about everything that'd happened to him in the park the night before when his sister yelled his name. _Noooo_, he groaned internally. _Please, not now_. He hurt so badly and a fight with his sister about his lateness would only make it worse, he_ knew _it.

"Bell?" His sister said again, sounding slightly more stressed as her footsteps led her back towards his room. Of course, she wouldn't know if he'd gotten home okay last night. Usually, he carried her to bed and when she'd woken on the couch she must've thought he hadn't come back yet.

"I'm here." He croaked, keeping his eyes closed against the obnoxious sunbeam that seemed to shine brighter in its triumph.

"Bellamy, what the hell?" His sister asked upon arrival to his bedroom, her voice already rising. "Where were you last night? I didn't fall asleep until well after two and you still weren't here."

He groaned in answer, throwing his arm over his face. "Would you believe me if I said I got attacked by a wolf in the park?" Was that what happened? There was no way that thing was a normal dog-it was too big. And what was with the second wolf that saved him?

"Is everything just a game to you?" _Uh-oh_, Octavia was reaching screech level and the crack in her voice was a warning signal of tears about to be shed. "_Anything_ could have happened to you and I would've been alone! Is that what you want? You_ said_ you'd protect me!"

"O! Calm down, please." His head felt like it was about to split open if she got one octave higher and he hated making his sister cry. "I got mugged, okay? I'm sorry. They took everything and then I had to walk all the way home from work."

In order to feed both of them and take care of rent, Bellamy worked two jobs-technically four if you counted the seasonal ones (if one of said seasonal jobs involved a Santa Clause suit, he wasn't telling). For one of his jobs he worked six days out of the week, six a.m. to two, working on cars in a mechanic shop just up the block. The second one, however, he worked every night, starting at three making drinks and cleaning tables in a bar half way across town. It was-he knew for a fact-a long-ass walk.

Octavia's eyes got round and she seemed to materialize next to his bed as she proceeded to try and rip his sheet off. "What the hell are you doing?" He growled, struggling and fighting to keep the blanket covering himself. He slept in his underwear and he couldn't quite remember if he was wearing the ones with the hole in them or not. "Stop that!"

"Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" Her gaze swept fiercely over him with an odd protectiveness and with one final yank on his sheet, he was bare except for his-luckily hole-less-boxers. "Holy _shit_\- "

He'd cleaned it as well as he could before passing out the night before, but he had to admit-it looked pretty ugly. His ribs were bruised from where the muggers had gotten a few shots in and his arms were scraped angry and red from where they'd tried to catch him when he'd fallen in the park. But, unsurprisingly, the worst was the deep scratches starting from the back of his knee and running down, almost to his ankle. He could've sworn he'd wrapped a towel around it before going to bed, but at some point it must've come off while he was sleeping, leaving it uncovered and still bleeding slightly.

"Okay, so this looks bad-"

"Holy shit! Did you really get attacked by a _wolf_? What the hell, Bell? You need to see a doctor! What if it had rabies or it gets infected?"

"We don't have the money for me to see a doctor. Besides, I'm fine, it looks worse than it is."

Octavia looked stricken, her eyes wide and firmly planted on his leg. He hadn't noticed when she'd come in, her hair was styled prettily over to one side, hanging around her face in ringlet curls. She was wearing more makeup than normal and a short dress with leggings and boots.

"Where are you off to?" He asked suspiciously, eyebrows raised.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and sitting down beside him carefully. "Nowhere, now, thanks. Not with you looking like this. You should call in to work, too. Your scheduled to work the bar tonight, right?"

"Right. And you know I can't call out, we need the money."

"You're not going looking like that, I can promise you."

Shit, he was in for it now. Octavia was as stubborn as they came and once she said something, you either agreed or she made your life hell until you gave in.

Finn was waiting for her in their usual spot when she arrived on the Ark University campus with a pumpkin spice latte and a grin. He admittedly looked pretty cute bundled up in his heavy, gray overcoat with his royal blue scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. His nose was red from the cold she hardly felt and he huddled away from the wind that was blowing her hair all over the place.

"Clarke!" He greeted excitedly, holding out her latte for her to take. "You look beautiful today." She rolled her eyes and took a long drink, shaking her finger at him. They'd nearly dated a few months back until she'd found out about his completely awesome girlfriend. And, yes, he was cute-but not that cute.

"Don't start with me." She said good-naturedly after she finally pulled away from her drink. "I look the same as always." This was, in fact, not true. Her skin and hair practically glowed today and she knew it to be because of her transformation. After your body snaps back into place, features shrink, and the thick fur coating you all rapidly falls out and evaporates onto the ground-you look amazingly healthy, and feel that way for the following week. Why? She wasn't sure, but her father had told her one of his theories on the subject. He believed that it was their souls-their true selves, the wolf-was still settled in close to the surface and nearly shining through, giving them this natural wild beauty kind of thing. It made sense, she wasn't drop dead gorgeous or nothing, but in the days following her moonlit runs she felt beautiful.

He frowned a little, but let it go and fell into step beside her. It was for the best. If he told her he was in love with her one more time she'd head-butt him.

"Where's Raven this morning?" She asked, only half curious.

Saying his girlfriend's name usually did the trick and he looked contrite as they walked to class. "She's meeting with a big client for one of the projects she's been on. He seems interested in investing and she's pretty excited." Finn's eyes were shinning with pride as he spoke and Clarke felt a low pang in her gut.

Sometimes she hated Finn for dangling this in front of her and tempting her. They both knew he loved Raven, but not like Raven loved him. Raven loved Finn more than anyone else on the Earth. You could see it in her dark eyes and her bright smile when she looked at him and fingered the origami raven necklace that Finn had crafted for her out of metal and given to her for her eighteenth birthday. He was all she had and all she felt she needed.

Both Clarke and Finn knew that if she wanted it, Finn would leave Raven for her in an instant. But even if some part of her wanted that, she would never allow herself to have it. Finn was cute, and sweet, and smart-but he wasn't hers to have.

"That's great." She smiled, and meant it. Raven was an amazing person and incredibly brilliant. "If anyone deserves it, she does."

"Who deserves what?" A voice asked behind them and Finn jumped in surprise.

"Dammit, Jasper! What the hell have I told you about sneaking up on me?"

Jasper grinned big, hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie as he nodded his head at Clarke. "I just love scaring you, man. And yet, I never can get Clarke, no matter how quiet I am." His hair stuck up in crazy pieces all around his head with one massive case of bedhead and she felt a rush of affection.

"You couldn't scare me if you tried, puppy." She said, laughing low under her breath as she leaned in close, hands going to soothe some of his fly-aways. He rolled his eyes at her, but let her continue her mothering. He was used to it by now, as they all were. She couldn't seem to help herself. Clarke had moved from the country side after her father's death to attend the Ark University and become a doctor, like her mother wanted. Really, it'd been an excuse to get away from her mother-the only one Abby Griffin would've accepted from her. Then she'd met Finn and Jasper and all of her other friends and it'd brought something out of her that she'd thought she'd lost when her father had died. "How's work going? That guy still giving you problems?"

"Which one?"

"The asshole!" Finn supplied, waving his hand around. Clarke smiled a little and the other two laughed at Finn's hand gestures as they began walking leisurely. It was Sunday, so they didn't have any classes, but they'd decided to meet up in their usual spot anyways. She had a few things she needed to get from the store and her friends were more than a little needy when it came to spending time together so they'd wanted to go with her. She didn't mind, of course. She was a little needy herself. "The quiet douche bag you were telling us about who was so bossy."

"Oh!" Jasper shook his head, eyes wide. "No, you mean Bellamy! No, I talked to him. He's actually not that bad."

"What? But you were going on about him all last week!" This was true. Jasper had just started this job at a mechanic shop two weeks before and while he really loved working with his hands, he'd been complaining about some of the other employees: namely, the quiet, bossy asshole that only seemed to bluntly state orders and glare.

Jasper smiled, still shaking his head wildly. "Nope, he's pretty cool actually. I haven't talked to him too much, he's kind of private. But we ate lunch in the break room together the other day and I got him to open up some. I think the reason he's so harsh is because of sleep deprivation, or something. Turns out he works, like, two jobs full time to feed both himself and his little sister."

Clarke's lips went up into a smile. "He sounds like a nice guy." She had a soft spot for people like that. Hell, who wouldn't?

"He is!" Now Jasper was nodding fast.

"You're going to give yourself a headache." He just gave her a confused look. "Never mind."

"Anyways, we're totally friends now! He's still a little reluctant, but I'm wearing him down."

Finn laughed and patted Jasper on the shoulder. "If anyone could, it's you."

"Damn right."

"You realize we might be short on the rent this month." Bellamy was sitting up in bed, arms crossed over his chest and phone in his lap while he sulked. Octavia had gotten her way, of course, and he'd called in sick to the bar. "And I'm just going to have to suck it up anyways for work tomorrow."

Her gaze cut his way from where she was bent over his leg pressing a ratted rag against the wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Don't look at me like that. I agreed to call in tonight, but I can't miss again. Not if you actually want to eat."

"I don't like this, Bell." She whispered, sounding close to tears again. "You should let me get another job." Right now, she was working a part time job on the University's campus serving coffee. "You should be able to take a few sick days when you really need them."

"No, you need to worry about school. Just worry about getting your degree, okay? I'll take care of the rest." Her eyes looked wet and she tilted her head upwards, likely so her mascara wouldn't run. "I'll be okay, O. We'll be okay, I promise." She nodded, not looking at him.

The next morning he still didn't feel great, but he was up faithfully and on his way to work by five thirty. The walk wasn't long, but his leg was aching and he was heavily limping by the time he clocked in a few minutes before six.

Jasper was waiting for him when he came out of the break room with a greeting smile, a reoccurrence he couldn't seem to put a stop to. The smile slowly slipped off his face watching Bellamy walk. "What the hell happened?" He asked, sounding extremely worried.

"Um. I got mugged." He wasn't lying. By Jasper's face, he probably should have. "I'm fine, really, don't look at me like that."

"You got mugged! You're obviously injured, what the hell are you doing at work?" Jasper practically teleported to his side, ducking under his arm like he was going to help him walk.

"What are you- no, I'm fine, really, Jasper." Bellamy protested, trying to twist away. Gasping, his leg twisted wrong in his attempts to escape and he grabbed Jasper's thin shoulder for support.

"You can't work like this!" Jasper gripped him tightly in return and started heading towards the door, like he was going to take him _home_-

"No! Jasper, no, I have to work!" He started struggling again, ignoring his leg. "I _can't_-I missed work last night, I can't skip today!"

"Bell-_stop_, you're going to hurt yourself." Jasper snapped out, trying to hold him still, his hand digging into the bruises on his waist.

The sound of his nickname threw him off and he froze. Octavia was the only one who called him 'Bell', had been even when his mother had been alive. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. He'd never actually had a friend who wasn't Octavia, was this how it was? To have someone who wasn't your family care about you?

"Please. I need-I need to work today, Jasper." He said firmly. He could see his_ friend's _resolve crumble with the soft pleading. "I can't afford to miss. I have to think of Octavia." Jasper's grip had loosened enough; he slipped away from the hold, eyes searching the work shop for anyone who might've witnessed them.

"Fine." Bellamy looked back at Jasper, the lines in his friend's (he was trying out the term and surprisingly, it didn't hurt that much) face stressed. "But I'm watching you. Any problems and I'll be there-you _better_ let me help you."

This was too weird. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, that seems fair, I guess."

By noon, he was ready to kill the kid. Every time he so much as winced, his new_ friend_ was there in a heartbeat taking over for him-_"Here, I'll do that."_\- The guys in the shop were starting to give him weird looks. Even though it was slightly annoying, by the time his shift was nearly over and he was sore as hell, he was grateful Jasper had been there to help take some of the load. Now if only he could help him with his other job. That was going to be absolutely terrible. He wasn't even sure popping a few pain pills would cut it this time.

"How are you doing?" Jasper asked from behind him, making him jump and curse before turning to glare. Jasper looked chastised, smiling an apologetic smile and shrugging. "Sorry, it's a habit. Anyways, you heading home? Want me to walk you there?"

Bellamy's mouth dropped open in shock. "What? No? Why?" He stuttered. What was he, a damsel?

"You got mugged yesterday." He said slowly, like he was stupid. "And you're injured."

"Well, yeah, but- no. Just no, Jasper. Besides, I have to be at the bar by three." Now it was time for Jasper's jaw to drop. "Shit, don't look at me like that. You know I have two jobs."

"You're limping! You're obviously exhausted and in pain-you're going to pass out!"

"Don't be dramatic."

"Dude, if you could see you now, you'd know I wasn't being dramatic." Jasper was looking at him gravely, like he was about to keel over any second. "Maybe-"

"If you're about to suggest coming with me-don't." As much as his tired body applauded that idea, he knew Jasper actually had a life outside of work. "Look, you've got the rest of the day off, go hang out with your friends."

Jasper just glared.

In the end, Bellamy gave the kid his cell phone number before he left so he could text him if something happened. Apparently, Octavia's puppy dog eyes weren't the only puppy eyes that worked on him.

He clocked in at the bar two minutes late-the first time he'd ever been late to work- panting and gripping the meat of his thigh, trying not to throw up. The damn bus stop had never been so far from work. Murphy, the little bastard was waiting with a nasty little smirk. "Hey, Bellamy, sleep late?" He teased.

"Sure thing, Murph." Murphy, for whatever reason, was his friend-or something close to it. They'd met when Bellamy first started working and the kid had just seemed to insert himself into his life. Murphy was thin and tall, just as tall as Bellamy, and his hair was a dark, oily brown that was usually slicked back away from his equally thin face. His eyes were brown and his skin was so white, he looked sick. Murphy reminded him of a weasel.

Murphy's eyes went wide when he caught sight of Bellamy's limp. "What happened, man?'

"Nothing, I'm good, really." He really didn't want to be here today. _Think of Octavia_, he told himself. _It's getting colder out-she's going to need a heavier coat_. Not to mention that his own jacket had been taken. "What's the crowd looking like tonight?"

"Must be a full moon, the crazies are out."

"Awesome. Let's get started then."

His first customer was a stumbling drunk wearing sunglasses and slinging bar peanuts all over the place. Wearing a dirty suit and shoveling peanuts into his slack mouth, the man burped out a string of what Bellamy could only think to be curse words while he pointed listlessly at the beer on-tap.

"You look like you've had enough." He said, expertly slipping the bowl of peanuts out of the man's reach. As the angry slurring got worse, the spit and chewed up peanuts got closer to smacking him in the face.

"B-bastard." The drunken man spat out, a glob hitting the bar. _Yep, this was the life_.

Clarke usually wasn't one for parties and yet, here she sat, sipping a plastic cup full of spiked punch while she avoided conversation with the stumbling people around her. Her friends were social drinkers, Raven and Finn laughing and talking over to her left with a group of people she didn't know. _It's _Monday_. Don't people have classes tomorrow?_

"Hey, girl." Jasper greeted as he plopped down next to her on the couch with his own cup of punch. He smelled different than usual, his normal scent of candy and motor oil clouded with something else.

"Hey, Jasper, how are you?" She asked, taking another drink while she watched her friend out of the corner of her eye.

Jasper shrugged and leaned back, downing half of his drink in one gulp. There was a smudge of grease on his cheekbone even though his hair stuck up in damp spikes like he'd just gotten out of the shower. "Been better, I guess." He admitted. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, checking the screen before clicking it back off and just holding it in his hand.

"Waiting for a call?" A round of cheering started up in the kitchen and Clarke winced at the noise. Obviously they'd brought out the Jell-O shots. "What's wrong, puppy?" She turned her full attention to her friend, twisting to look at him.

Making a face, Jasper finished off the rest of his drink, sighing as he set his cup down on the coffee table. "It's not me, I'm fine. Really, Clarke, don't give me that look." She kept her eyebrow raised critically, wondering if she was going to need to bring out the 'doctor voice'. "It was Bellamy, my new friend at work? He got mugged last night. I'm just worried about him is all."

Clarke felt a small spark of anger for this man she'd never met. He had several jobs and was trying to take care of his little sister. Of course he would get mugged, how unfair was that? "That sucks, Jasper." She said, huffing in displeasure. "Was he hurt?"

Jasper nodded slowly, gripping his cell tighter. "He was limping all day. I tried to help as much as I could, but he has another job he's working tonight."

When her father had been alive, he'd called her a protector. He'd said it was part of her nature, it was who she was. He was right, of course. She couldn't stand to see people struggling or in pain. "You should bring him around sometime. I'd like to meet him." She wasn't sure how much she could do for him, but the wolf buried in her breast bayed for her to shield, to defend.

"I'll try." Jasper said with a small smile. "But he's almost as stubborn as you are." _Oh, I doubt that. _

"Jasper!" Raven yelled excitedly, interrupting them. Finn grabbed her drink out of her hand just in time for her to throw herself into Jasper's arms, hugging him tightly. "It's been forever, where the hell have you been?"

"Oh, you know, around." Jasper laughed, hugging her back just as tight. "Missed you, Raven."

The ranting got louder in the kitchen. "Can we get out of here?" Clarke asked, standing. "Let's go get something to eat."

Her friends caved pretty easily, saying goodbye to the people they'd been chatting with earlier before following her outside. The moon was bright and full in the sky tonight as they walked to the Denny's up the road, the breeze making everyone but her hunker down into their jackets and speed up. Clarke felt a shudder of anticipation ripple down her back, the beast pleading to be let free, to run. _You just changed last night_. She scolded herself lightly and looped her arm through Jasper's thinner one when she noticed him shaking. _Give it a few nights at least_.

Jasper still looked worried, his brow scrunched up as they walked a few paces behind Raven and Finn, Clarke forcing herself not to watch the couple giggle into each other's ears, flushed from the alcohol and maybe a little of something else as well. Instead, she openly watched her friend next to her.

"Why don't you just text him?" She finally asked and Jasper's head snapped towards her in surprise.

"What?"

"Why don't you just text him first? Ask him how he's doing?"

He blinked slowly, glancing down at the phone that was still being gripped tightly in his palm. "I don't want to bug him."

"From what it sounds like, he's used to you bugging him." He scoffed, elbow nudging her and catching her in her healing side. She forced herself not to flinch-it was nearly healed by now, the only thing remaining being a tender, pink scar. "We could stop by his work? You said he works at a bar, right? We could just say we stopped by for a drink."

Jasper's face was twisting into funny expressions. "I don't know." He murmured, indecisively. "I'd like to. It's a bit of a walk though."

"It'll give those two sometime to sober up." She retorted, indicating their friends who were stumbling into each other.

"I heard that, Griffin." Raven shouted back over her shoulder, Finn laughing as he tried to shush her, worried she'd wake anyone asleep in the houses they passed. It was getting pretty late considering it was a weekday, so it was a valid concern. "I'll have you know I'm perfectly sober. Where are you going?"

"_We_ are going to a bar." Jasper's happy smile was approval enough.

Truth be told, even with his leg aching it was one of the easiest nights he'd had since he'd first started this job. He'd only had one bar fight so far tonight that'd ended quite fast when one of the offenders passed out cold before a punch was ever thrown. And no one had tried to take a swing at him either, yet. Octavia had called to check on him. His boss stood glaring at him from across the bar while he'd whispered reassurances to his sister in the back, the thick man tapping on his watch to indicate he needed to hurry up.

Bellamy was wiping down some of the round tables (which was usually Murphy's job, but the asshole had a knack for disappearing when he was needed) when someone came up behind him and cleared their throat. He twisted around in alarm, dirty rag dangling in one hand while cleaning spray swayed in the other.

"Jasper?" He gasped. Jasper's gaze was on his leg, which he had propped up flamingo style to keep as much weight off of it as he could. Three people around his age were standing behind him. Two of them- a boy with thick, dark brown hair and pale skin and a darker-skinned girl with long, dark hair tucked into a pony-tail were taking turns between staring blandly at him and glancing around the bar. The other one was a girl with wild, blonde hair and honest, blue eyes. He'd seen prettier girls, but there was something about this one. She was staring at him intensely, nostrils flaring as she leaned her curvy body subtly in his direction. "What are you doing here?" He finally managed to ask, yanking his gaze away from the untamed beauty who seemed to be determined to burn a hole through his sternum.

"We came to get a drink, of course." Jasper's lips twitched.

"Really."

"Of course! But since you're here, how about I introduce you to my friends?" Bellamy shrugged, trying to look uninterested. "Good! That's Raven and Finn, and this is Clarke!" He pointed to each of them as he said their names, the two dark haired kids waving idly at him. Clarke, the blonde just stared harder and came forwards to stand beside Jasper, placing herself closer to Bellamy. Her eyes seemed to glow with feral power and her full hair shone brightly like a halo. "Guys, this is Bellamy!"

"Nice to meet you." He said, nodding as he crossed his arms over his chest as well as he could with cleaning supplies in his hands and one leg hooked in the air. "Now, what are you really doing here? Did you come here to check up on me?"

Jasper sputtered in mock indignation, hair flopping around on his forehead as he placed a dramatic hand over his chest. "What? Why I would never! We just wanted to get a nice drink to top off our night! But, while we're here, how _is_ your leg?"

He couldn't help it, his lips tilted up into an amused smile and he shook his head. "I'm fine. It hurts, sure, but I can handle it. I'm a big boy, Jasper."

"Jasper said you were mugged?" Clarke interrupted before Jasper could sputter out a remark. Her gaze was sharp and unwavering and he actually felt a little uncomfortable with not telling the whole truth-like she could possibly tell he was hiding something.

He didn't hesitate, just gave a sure nod. "They caught me out in the alley last night. Took my damn jacket, shirt, and shoes as well as whatever else I had on me." Clarke's eyes went wide, but she didn't say anything. "I'm really okay, Jasper. Plus, even if I wasn't, you wouldn't get away with doing my job for me this time." He nodded towards his boss who was glaring at them from behind the bar, stroking his beard like a real life villain. "The old man wouldn't like that, I'll tell you what. But thanks for checking up on me."

"Do we get a free drink for it?" The other girl, Raven asked cockily, dragging the tip of her nose over Finn's neck while he squirmed a bit in her grasp, looking a little uncomfortable with the attention.

"No. They only do that shit in the movies. In the real world, you can't just hand out alcohol on the house." He wasn't sure how he felt about this Raven and Finn. So far they couldn't seem to care less about anything that didn't pertain to them.

"We're good. She doesn't need anything else anyways." Clarke cut in again, smoothly, her voice soothing away any irritated feelings he might've started to have. "You should hang out with us sometime. It'll be fun." Her baby blues bore into him before she turned, taking the other two with her and leaving him alone with Jasper.

"You really should." Jasper seconded, sounding excited. "We're like a big happy family! You could even bring your sister if you wanted."

His socialness had timed out. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment. "I'll think about it." He said quietly, and that seemed good enough for his friend.

"Be careful." Jasper said firmly, looking back to his leg. "If you're hurting too much to walk on it, call me. Hell, if you just don't want to walk home alone-_call me_. Okay?"

Bellamy just nodded numbly, mouth hanging open.

_It was him_. Clarke was walking down the sidewalk, body tensed as she fought every impulse she had to go back to the bar. When she'd first caught sight of him from behind, bent over cleaning the table, familiar curls brushing the collar of his shirt, she'd suspected. And then she'd got close enough to smell him. Leather and honey smoke tickled her senses and the second that scent filled her nostrils she'd wanted to bury her face in his neck. The faint smell of blood clinging to him made the beast in her chest grumble. The other wolf must've caught skin when he'd brought Bellamy down, the bastard. It was good her kind had to be born and couldn't be made by scratch or infection like the television would have people believe. (She absolutely did not think of how the thought of Bellamy being like her-_running, hunting, playing with her_-made her wolf grumble happily.)

Bellamy-how funny that the same person her friend had been talking about for the last couple of months was the man she'd saved the other night in the park. He'd looked tired in that dingy bar, his eyes bruised and glassy with pain. The splash of scattered freckles across his the bridge of his nose and cheeks had stuck out more prominently against his pale, drawn skin. And, yet, he was what she would call_ pretty_. Clarke smiled. Bellamy was incredibly adorable and he smelled absolutely lovely.

Her wolf growled, insisting she protect and for once she determined she wasn't going to fight it.

He went home alone that night, eyes watching all of the shadows on the street intently as he rode his regular bus route as close as he could before walking the rest of the way. Eventually, though, Bellamy made it home intact, vision blurring as he bolted the door behind him and pulled his phone out to text Jasper that he was safe and sound. Octavia was waiting on the couch, a bowl of off-brand tomato soup and a grilled cheese sitting on the coffee table for him.

"I just made it ten minutes ago, so it's still a warm." She said without glancing his way, but he felt her watching him from out of the corners of her eyes. "How are you?"

"Tired." He groaned and practically threw himself down on the couch, leg twinging as he leaned forwards to eat. "Thanks for waiting up. You're going to be exhausted tomorrow for school." The soup went down easily and he hummed into his bowl as he ate. He hadn't had anything since lunch with Jasper at eleven and even then he'd only eaten as little as the kid had let him get away with. He hadn't realized he was even hungry until now.

"Don't start on me Bell. I'll be at school, but this was important." She wouldn't say it, but she'd been worried obviously that he wouldn't make it home tonight. "I don't like you walking home alone. It was bad this time, but next time could be worse. You could be killed, big brother." She said quietly, still not looking at him. "It's not worth it."

He didn't say anything for a minute, just chewed a bite of his sandwich as he thought. "It is, though, Octavia. I know you don't like it, hell-I don't either. But it's necessary. We need rent money and clothes and food-I need to work."

"Let me get a job!" She yelled suddenly, turning to look at him for the first time since he'd got home. "I can go back to school later-or not at all! This is more important! Let me help!"

"_No_." He snapped and she flinched a little in surprise. "You need school-a degree can help you in the future, O. You can get higher paying jobs with a degree. Last thing I want is for you to be working at a bar like I do, or taking orders at some fast food place for the rest of your life. Just finish school."

She didn't answer him. With an ugly snort, Octavia shot to her feet and stormed out of the room, the sound of her door slamming shut coming a few stomps later.

Bellamy sighed, starring into his bowl of soup forlornly. In the beginning, just after his mother's passing, his sister had relied on him, trusted him to take care of her. As time went on it was as if she didn't believe him anymore when he told her things would be okay. Every day it was like he was letting her down more and more, even though he was doing all he could.

He could hear muffled crying coming from Octavia's bedroom, the thin walls doing almost nothing to keep the sound in.

With a heavy heart, he finished his food, cleaning the plastic bowl and utensils in the sink before shuffling off to bed. The wound on his leg was puffy and red when he looked at it, the skin around it hot. Damn it all if his stupid leg got infected on top of everything else. His bruised ribs were terrible looking, but they didn't really hurt all that much compared to his leg, so he wasn't worried about them.

He was going to have to get up in roughly five hours, so he put some old ointment on his leg before lying down and trying to fall asleep. One golden haired girl with glowing skin and a clever gaze kept popping up every time he closed his eyes (oddly enough, so did the tawny wolf that'd leapt from out of nowhere and saved him in the park, but that understandable after being attacked).

He wouldn't mind some new friends.

"Do you get off at the same time every night at the bar?" Jasper asked him the next day while they sat in the break room eating their lunch.

Bellamy blinked in surprise, bologna sandwich pausing on its way to his mouth. "What? Well, no. On Fridays and Saturdays I get off around two because the bars stay open later on weekends. Sundays through Thursdays I work until twelve. Why?"

Jasper frowned, crumpling his empty bad of Cheetos up and tossing it towards the trashcan. "Shit. I missed. I always miss. Yeah, so you work that job every day, right? That doesn't really leave you any free time-like, at all."

He nodded and continued to eat his food. "I get Sundays off here?" He said while he chewed. Jasper gave him an exasperated look.

"A whole half a day, you slacker." Bellamy rolled his eyes at Jasper's sarcastic tone. "Well, I loathe taking away hours of your free time where you could be sleeping-which you desperately need."

"I get plenty of sleep, thank you very-"

"But, the gang wants to hang out with you sometime so we need to work out a schedule."

Bellamy froze, just starring at his friend with his face crinkled. "I-what?"

"Clarke's been bugging the shit out of me, man, and it's not like it's been over twenty-four hours or something, but she's already threatened me bodily harm if I don't set up a play date."

His cheeks felt warmer and he ducked his head to inspect his sandwich. "Oh, yeah? So, when do you think would be the best time?" Clarke wanted to see him again, how awesome was that? How totally, unexpectedly weird, and _awesome_?

"Mm, well you definitely need sleep on the weekdays, so how about this Sunday? What time do you normally wake up?"

"About seven-thirty, eight o'clock." Jasper made a face like he was in terrible pain.

"You don't even sleep in on your one day to sleep in?"

"I am sleeping in. I normally get up at five."

"You're ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Okay, so, I don't want you to get up until ten." He held his hand up when Bellamy opened his mouth to argue. "And then I want you to meet me here in front of the shop at eleven. Deal?"

Bellamy tilted his head, considering, before finally nodding. "Deal." He finished his sandwich and took a swig of his water before thinking to ask. "Hey, so what are we doing?"

Jasper just smirked. "That is a secret, Bell. Just meet me here or I'll sick Clarke on you, and trust me, you don't want that."

Except that he maybe, sorta did.

The leg wound was healing, but it was taking forever and was extremely disgusting. At least, he assumed it was healing. It was _nearly _Sunday, almost a full week since he'd gotten the blasted gash and while it no longer bled and seemed to be closing, it was achy and leaked bloody puss a lot. _Hot, right_?

He and Octavia had hardly said two words to each other since the disagreement in the living room. Anytime he tried to talk to her she would keep her responses short, not look at him, and then retreat to her bedroom as soon as she could. It was starting to wear on him. By this point, usually he would have given in by now and given her what she wanted, but not this time. This was for her own good and he wouldn't give in, no matter how nice it would be to have more sources of income coming in.

The bar was packed already when he'd clocked in, a great number of customers already listing and slurring, smiling too much and giggling too loud. Some were just starring morosely into their glasses as if life's answers would suddenly float out in a great beer bubble and start dancing. No, he couldn't imagine letting his little sister work somewhere like here.

"How's the leg?" Someone asked from behind him and he turned around to see a smug looking Murphy leaning against the wall watching him while he put his stuff away in the back.

"Getting better." Bellamy said slowly, feeling slightly uncomfortable from the intensive stare. "Wasn't bad when I first got it, so no big."

"That's good." Murphy didn't move, just smiled and stared.

"Um. Yeah, so, I'll be out in a minute." More staring. "Murphy, move along before I shove my foot up your ass." That did it, finally. Murphy gave one final sharp toothed grin before turning and leaving, whistling an odd tune as he went. _Creepy little shit_.

With a sigh, he went to follow, mumbling as he ran a hand through his hair. "Blake." His boss called suddenly from his office and Bellamy stopped in surprise. "Need to see you in my office, now."

Well, that didn't sound good.

His boss was a stocky man with a thick beard and hardly any hair on his head called Ricky. Ricky wore only plaid button up shirts tucked into jeans and if he wasn't glaring or getting onto someone, he wasn't doing his true calling in life. Yelling at people or criticizing others was Ricky's favorite thing to do. This was the first time since his interview that Bellamy had been called into the man's office and it looked the same as it had then. The room was roughly the size of a bathroom with a huge metal desk taking up almost all of it. The walls were cheap wooden panels and decorated by one, framed college graduate certificate from a community college. One of Ricky's proudest achievements.

"Have a seat, Blake." The man said gruffly, indicating the metal fold out chair stationed in front of his desk. Bellamy did, shifting uncomfortably. The only thing on Ricky's desk was a chipped mug with a cat on it stuffed with pencils and pens. "Do you have any idea why I might have called you in today?"

"No sir." He said, trying to keep calm. Surely he wasn't being fired-he was the best employee they had. Never once had he taken a sick day until the day after being attacked in the park.

"One of the registers was missing over a hundred dollars last night." Bellamy tensed and the vein under his jaw twitched and pulsed. "You were the only one manning the register and I have an eye witness who said you were acting anxious last night."

_What?_

"You think I took the money." Bellamy said faintly, reeling in shock. "I don't-I would_ never_ steal." Least of all, be dumb enough to get caught stealing.

"You're the only employee here with a motive, Blake."

"You mean I'm the only employee without a college degree and who's dirt poor." Bellamy snapped out. He looked up, meeting Ricky's eyes with his own narrowed gaze. "Just because I'm broke doesn't mean I'm a thief. I work hard for my money."

Ricky only seemed to harden, body drawing up like he was waiting for him to start a fight. "You don't have to admit to it, if that's the kind of man you are." What they both knew he was saying was,_ 'You're a coward and a low-life'_. "It doesn't matter. Since I'm a nice guy, I'm not going to report any kind of felony to the police. I make enough money to let this slide, but you are no longer allowed in this bar. Bellamy Blake, I hereby terminate your employment. You are to leave the premises immediately."

_No, no, no_. He stopped breathing, his mind going into a state of frenzy. He needed this job, how did this happen? How could he support Octavia without it? His eyes burned with tears and he squeezed them shut-refusing to let this son of a bitch see him anymore upset. The panic was almost suffocating.

Ricky was watching on, face slack and without emotion though his eyes showed a different story. They watched him closely, pupils wide with excitement like he was hoping Bellamy would try and fight-would give him a show. _Would give him a reason to call the cops_.

Instead, Bellamy stood up swiftly, spotting Ricky's flinch with satisfaction before walking calmly out of the office to go get his stuff. He ignored everything on the way out. Murphy called his names a few times, sounding curious and then more disapproving as he noticed Bellamy was leaving him with all the customers.

_Fuck everything_. He thought fiercely as he began his long trip home.

Octavia was still at school by the time he got home and he quickly locked himself in his bedroom before throwing himself onto his bed. His phone dinged in his pocket.

**'****Can't wait for Sunday.'** Jasper had sent him, complete with a round, yellow smiley giving him a thumb's up.

He stared at the text, debating. **'Then let's not wait. What are you doing tonight?'**

The answer was almost immediate. **'What? What about work? Are you okay?'**

**'****Fine. Can we please just hang out?'**_Maybe a little too desperate._

**'****Of course, meet me at the shop.'** And that was that. He was going to go hang out with friends. Hopefully there would be alcohol. He could sure as hell use a drink.

Jasper was waiting for him, bundled up with a beanie on his head and a scarf wrapped almost over the entire lower half of his face. In his hands was two to-go-cups of coffee, one of which he handed Bellamy once he'd gotten close enough.

"What is it?" Bellamy asked curiously, taking a cautious sniff, then a sip. It was good, sweet and yet strong with a bite of cinnamon. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

"You seemed like you could use it." Jasper said, knowingly, observing him closely over the lid of his own cup. "What happened, Bell?"

That familiar rise of anger came again, a flush of embarrassment coming with it. "Let's walk." He said, though it was more like a silent request. Jasper understood, luckily and nodded, leading the way down the sidewalk. For the first couple minutes they didn't talk, Bellamy taking the time to bring his thoughts together and Jasper patiently waiting him out. "My boss accused me of stealing and fired me."

"What?" Jasper's eyebrows shot up and he jerked in indignation, spilling some of his coffee on his fingers. "He accused _you_ of stealing? Why?" He growled, blowing fiercely on his hand after wiping it off on his jeans.

"Apparently there was an eyewitness who saw me acting shifty." He'd nearly forgotten about that part. He didn't remember acting any different than normal the night before. Who had been the eyewitness? Were they the one who actually took the money?

"Obviously someone's trying to frame you."

Bellamy stared at him in surprise. Jasper said it so matter-of-factly, like there was no doubt in his mind that Bellamy hadn't stolen anything. "That's what I was thinking, but who would want to frame me?"

"We'll find out." His eyes were narrowed in determination and he sped up, Bellamy lengthening his stride to keep up. "But we're going to need help doing it."

Jasper filled in the worried silence with funny stories about himself and his friends while they walked. Eventually they came to a nice apartment complex with a sign out front that read _Mt. Weather_, the building red brick with a key pad at the door. Jasper just smiled and ignored Bellamy's uncomfortable look while he scanned a card he'd pulled out of his pocket, emitting them access.

Bellamy had never been a place so nice. The inside walls were painted a nice cream color and each door was a burnt orange with gold numbers. "Mine and my roommate's parents help us pay rent." Jasper explained as they made their way up the stairs to the second floor. "They can afford it."

"I see." They stopped at room 212 and Jasper inserted a gold key into the lock.

"Monty!" He called when they entered the apartment. Bellamy's jaw dropped. The apartment was amazing. There were no cracks in the ceiling or paint chipped on the walls, no roaches or bugs of any sort crawled past their feet when they walked and everything was clean. The place he shared with Octavia was the best they'd ever lived in, and they did their absolute best to keep it clean and make it home. But the rest of the building was old and not built well enough the first time around so everything broke or was covered in mold and dust. The other people they shared the space with didn't care as much about keeping it clean, so the roaches just seemed to spill over from the other apartments.

Jasper's apartment was like something off of television, though the way it was decorated was homey and warm. Little trinkets and pieces of metal and bolts littered counters and end tables. Picture frames with pictures of Jasper and his friends-Clarke and the other two Bellamy had met the other night in the bar, as well as an Asian kid with a big smile-hung on the walls and sat on tables.

Clarke, Raven, Finn, and two others Bellamy didn't know sat on the couches, smiling and playing cards. "That's Monty and Wells." Jasper said excitedly as he pointed to them. Monty was the Asian kid from the pictures, his dark hair brushed to the side of his face from where he sat next to Finn with a mug of coffee. Wells was dark-skinned and well-muscled, his face serious and his eyes honest. They both looked up, Monty smiling and waving while Wells gave a solemn nod.

Clarke was smiling at him, a fond quirk of her lips and Bellamy resisted the urge to look away and blush like a teenager. "Glad you could come." She said, not taking her intense gaze off of him.

"Glad I was invited." He responded, and meant it. Though losing his job was the worst thing to happen, he was happy to hang out.

"Bellamy was fired from his job at the bar because someone stole money and told the boss he did it." Jasper burst out and Bellamy winced. Was this what he'd meant when he said they'd need help? None of these people knew him as well as Jasper did, what reason did they have to believe he hadn't done it?

Every one sat quiet for a minute before a deep growling startled everyone. Clarke's face was strained in anger and the rumbling was coming from her chest as she clenched her fists together. "We'll find the bastard." She spat out and Bellamy stared in shock at her outrage. Everyone else nodded in agreement.

"That's so not cool, man." Monty said and Finn had his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Do you know who told the boss you did it?" Wells asked calmly, though his brow was furrowed in thought.

"Probably the slimy bastard I saw gawking at my ass last time we were there." Raven scoffed and took a swig from her beer.

"Slimy…did he look kind of like a weasel? Beady eyes with his hair slicked back?" Bellamy asked and Raven was nodding the second he said the word 'weasel'. "That's Murphy. He's my friend, I think, but I don't really like him all that much."

Jasper pushed him over to the couch and he took the available seat next to Clarke. "Why are you friends with him then?" Clarke asked quietly and he just shrugged.

"I guess I'm not. He's just always hanging around me when we're at work."

"Could it be him?"

He paused, thinking. How well did he really know Murphy? He didn't know anything about his family, or where he lived, or anything about his personal life out of work. "I guess it could be. Why would he frame me though? I haven't done anything to him."

"Maybe it wasn't personal." Finn said reasonably, obviously the voice of reason. "Maybe he needed the money or something and wanted the blame off of himself."

"Could be that." He admitted. But he didn't think so. This felt personal, somehow. But it could be it just felt personal because he'd been _fired_ from a job he'd very much needed. "I needed that job. I'm going to have to find another one quick."

"We'll figure something out." Jasper said firmly. "For now, let me get you a beer and let's play some cards."

Bellamy had always been fairly good at playing cards and was in the lead even though Jasper and surprisingly, Finn were cheaters and would take whatever chance they could if you didn't watch them. Raven was decent at it, though only because she had a kick-ass poker face. She had the worst luck at drawing cards. Wells was the worst and lost gracefully with an enduring look-which made Bellamy crack up almost every time he laid down an awful hand with a grave expression, like he was accepting whatever fate gave him. Monty wasn't bad, but he was easily distracted and didn't try very hard at all to win. And Clarke, well she was right on Bellamy's tail the whole time, sometimes pulling ahead of him.

He didn't get shit-faced like he might've originally planned, just sipped on his beer and was just starting on his second when the pizza they'd ordered arrived.

It was the most fun he'd had in years. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled so much. His phone started ringing in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was Octavia, he noted with surprise. She hadn't called him since the week before, it would take talking to him and she was too pissed to do that.

"Octavia?" He said when he answered, worried something might be wrong.

"Where are you?" She snapped. "I came to see you at the bar, _because it's ten and you should be here_-and they said you are no longer an employee."

Shit. He was hoping he wouldn't have to tell her yet. "I got fired." He said quietly, trying not to pay attention to all of the eyes suddenly on him.

"What? What did you do?" She asked angrily and he felt his own agitation rising.

"I didn't _do_ anything, O. They think I stole some money."

There was complete silence on the other line. He waited a few seconds before opening his mouth, about to say something when his sister finally spoke, voice like a whisper. "Did you?"

A ringing started in his ears and his eye twitched. "_What_?"

"Did you Bellamy? Do you know how much trouble we could get in? If we were that low, you should've let me get that job!"

"I didn't steal_ anything_." He hissed fingers tight on his phone as he struggled not to throw it against the wall. "I would_ never_. How could you think that of me?" He hung up before she could say anything, not wanting to know the answer. She was his _sister_; she was supposed to know him better than anyone else. So how come she was the only one so far who'd actually believed him capable of it?

Everyone sat quietly as he stewed in anger.

"It's okay, Bell." Clarke spoke softly, a contradiction to his frenzied heartbeat, his anger swirling around his head like a swarm of bees. "We'll figure out who did it. She's just upset right now. If she thinks about it, she knows you had nothing to do with the money going missing."

His grip loosened on his phone and he slid it back into his pocket. "Octavia is stubborn. She'll believe what she wants, unfortunately and not apologize for it."

"Yeah." Clarke said with a smile. "I also know she worships you. I didn't know who she was talking about before when she said her brother, but you were all she talked about."

"She said you're a hard worker. And that you've taken care of her all her life." Wells said, his face stoic but his eyes respectful and approving.

"You know Octavia?" He asked in wonder. Of course, they went to school together. Everyone nodded. "How about that. I'm hanging out with my sister's friends. I'm such a dork." And everyone laughed quietly along with him.

All in all, it was a nice night.

No one wanted to leave, but once midnight hit, him and Jasper were reluctantly ready for bed. Both of them had to get up early for work while the rest of them didn't have school until the afternoon.

"I'll walk you home." Jasper said, standing when he did.

"Then who will walk you back home?" Bellamy inquired. "I'll be fine, go ahead and get to bed."

"Someone should walk you home." Wells said and his eyes were on Bellamy's leg as he limped to the trash can to throw his trash away.

"I'll be fine, really. You guys worry too much, surely I'm not so unlucky to be attacked twice in one month." They all offered firmly, insisting, but in the end he turned them all down with a polite no. "Now, see you guys Sunday?" He smiled.

They grumbled, unhappy about his refusal, but nodding in confirmation.

He left after receiving a few pats on the back and a hair ruffle from Jasper, which he playfully slapped away. Clarke just stared intently and smiled like she knew something he didn't, letting him pass with a light touch of her fingers tickling the back of his hand as he went. He wasn't sure what to make of her.

Clarke was unsurprisingly very good at following people. She'd never done it before but it was extremely easy. Bellamy's scent was easy to pick out on the street and she followed far enough back that he couldn't spot her, but she could hear his even breathing as he walked. She was glad she'd chosen to follow. An unusual, yet strangely familiar smell was in the wind, catching her attention and then drifting away again before she could identify it.

She was unsure of why, but the smell made the curly hairs on the back of her neck prickle as her senses told her to be weary. She wasn't the only one following Bellamy and something told her it was the beast from the other night, though it smelled different. Which probably meant it was in human form.

She tried to catch sight of it, watching the alleyways and the rooftops, but it proofed to be allusive. Her instincts were screaming at her-why was this poor man so unlucky? Not only was there someone out to get him in in the light but a creature was stalking him from the shadows as well. What had Bellamy done to deserve such fate? From the time she'd spent with him, he was sweet and loyal and she couldn't imagine a terrible creature taking the time to hunt him down so unwaveringly with the intention of hurting him.

Her friends, while very friendly were not the most trusting and yet, they'd taken to Bellamy faster than she had. Even Wells had warmed up to him and smiled at Bellamy's light peals of laughter-the way his eyes crinkled up and he sometimes threw his head back as his body shook with mirth . He was fascinating. She'd seen their faces when they'd all but begged to walk him home. It was unspoken, but very clear. Bellamy was now one of them.

She wouldn't let anyone hurt him.

He thought he'd hit the lottery when he got home and all the lights were out. He crept towards his bedroom and was almost in the clear when the lamp in the living room switched on and he froze mid-step.

Octavia sat curled up tightly on the couch, hair in its familiar messy bun and one of his long sleeved shirts swallowing her small frame. Her eyes were puffy and she was crying as they stared at each other. Octavia's lip quivered and he fought himself when his body screamed at him to go comfort her.

"I'm not doing this." He said firmly, hardening himself. "You can try to make me feel as guilty as you'd like but I'm not apologizing because I have nothing to apologize for." He continued for his room, intending to just ignore her.

"Bell." She hiccupped and his legs stopped before he could force himself not to. "Bellamy, please. I don't like this. I don't like you being upset with me. I don't like fighting."

"You're the one who hasn't said hardly a word to me in the last week." He said harshly, the feeling of rejection he'd felt when she'd ignored him every time he'd tried to talk to her building up. "I'm _trying_, Octavia. I'm trying so hard to make our lives better and it's like you're fighting me at every turn. If you hate me that damn much, do whatever you want-I just don't care anymore." Her face looked stricken, but he couldn't look at her anymore. Whirling away from her, he limped into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

She was gone the next morning by the time he got up for work. If she was gone for good or not, he didn't know so he just quietly got ready and left.

It was Sunday morning before he knew it and he tried to sleep in like Jasper had told him to. He made it until about eight-thirty and then he was up. Octavia had come back at some point but seemed to be licking her wounds in her bedroom. He wasn't sure what she was doing for food, but she wasn't leaving her room for it.

He showered, taking his time since he didn't have to be anywhere anytime soon, and checked out his leg. The wound had been fairly deep, but it was finally healing-he was sure of it now. It would be tender and scar horribly since he didn't seek medical attention, and he would probably limp for a while but it would heal.

After getting dressed he sat on the couch and turned on the television to kill time until he had to meet up with Jasper. Ten minutes into some documentary about dolphins, he heard Octavia's door creak open. Quiet footsteps came towards him and he tensed, unprepared for another fight so soon after the last one. She stopped right beside where he sat on the couch but he still didn't look at her.

A kiss was planted on the side of his temple. "I'm sorry, big brother. I do love you and I'll try to be better." Octavia said quietly. "But you have to take care of yourself, too."

She was back behind the door of her room before he'd turned to look at her.

The thing with his sister left him feeling slightly happy and extremely relieved. It was still pretty early, but he left to meet Jasper anyways. He was on the first floor to his apartment building when his landlady exited from her own room

"Hi, Miss Crenshaw." He greeted, giving the older women a polite smile. "How are you this morning?"

Her old face turned to him and crinkled in distress, the rollers in her hair following the movement. "Ah, Mr. Blake." Her tone was tired and resigned.

"What's wrong?" He frowned. He recognized that tone from when he was in school and a slip to detention usually followed it. "Did you not get my rent money this month? I slid it under the door, like normal."

"Oh, no, no, nothing like that." She chewed on her lip for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh. "There have been some complaints. From your neighbors."

Bellamy stiffened in alarm and confusion. "What? What about?" He and Octavia were great tenants- he made sure of it- and they made sure to never anger the neighbors. In fact, they'd never even_ spoken_ to any of them before.

"They inform me you have some shady individuals come to your home at all hours of the night and that you might be…well, selling stuff to them."

_Stuff_? "Do you mean _drugs_? You think I'm selling drugs?" By her look, yes, she thought he was a drug dealer.

"I like you." She said, wringing her hands together nervously. "You're always on time with your rent and you're very polite, but I can't allow that kind of thing to go on in my building."

_No. Oh no, please God, don't kick us out_.

"Ma'am, I swear, please I swear I'm not dealing drugs. Octavia and I never have visitors- I don't understand why anyone would think that."_ Don't panic, remain calm and polite_.

"Mr. Blake…"

"Please, don't kick us out." He said quietly, voice cracking. "I just want to take care of my little sister and I would _never_ jeopardize her safety by selling drugs. Please, you have to believe me."

The wrinkles in her face softened out and she sighed again. "Of course not, dear. I'm not going to kick you two out without proof. But you keep your nose clean, you hear me? Stay out of trouble."

"Thank you." He gasped and his hand shot out to catch her frail ones before he knew what he was doing. "Thank you so much, Miss Crenshaw."

Her cheeks blotted red as she blushed, waving him away. "Yeah, yeah, go on now. Be good."

He left on wobbly legs. Why would anyone say that? He and Octavia were as quiet as church mice and he wasn't lying when he said they never received visitors. An awful thought came to his head. Maybe it was the same person who'd gotten him fired from the bar. But how could that be? Did whoever was trying to frame him live in this building, too? It wasn't as if some random person off the street could come in and try to claim he was dealing drugs out of his apartment.

He was still worrying it over when he reached the spot in front of the mechanics shop where he was supposed to meet Jasper. He checked his phone for the time and found he was still twenty minutes early. Dammit, he had to be an early riser.

"You didn't sleep in until ten did you." Said a voice behind him and he may or may not have whirled around with a shocked cry. Jasper was standing there looking amused and warm, bundled up in his coat and familiar beanie, two cups of coffee steaming in his hands. He gave a laugh at Bellamy's reaction and held the cup out for him, which Bellamy took, grateful. "I told you to sleep in and you still couldn't do it, shame on you. We need to get you a thicker coat as well, that hoodie jacket doesn't look like it's doing any good."

"As much as I love the free coffee," Bellamy said, blowing into his to cool it down before risking a sip. He made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, even when it burnt most of his taste buds away. "You don't have to buy me one every time we meet up."

"You're just not used to being spoiled." Jasper said with a conspiratorial wink. "I'm preparing you. Once you start hanging out with our group more you'll realize everyone in it has a huge mothering streak and they'll spoil you rotten (Except for Raven-she's more like an eccentric aunt.) We can't help it, just sit back and enjoy."

Spoiled? Was that what this was? Huh, he'd never been spoiled before, he didn't think. Well, he enjoyed free coffee being supplied to him, so it wasn't like he was going to fight Jasper on this. Instead he just gave a small huff and started walking.

"I'm serious about the jacket thing, too." Jasper continued as he caught up, walking beside him. "I think some of Wells might fit you. We can ask if he has some extra ones he won't mind parting with."

Bellamy felt himself wince in embarrassment. He hated being poor and his pride stung a bit at the fact that he couldn't rightly turn down the offer to have a warmer jacket.

"Don't make that face." Jasper said lightly, patting him on the shoulder. "You don't have to do shit on your own anymore. Friends help friends. Besides, do you understand how much trouble we all would be in if Clarke found out you weren't wearing a heavier coat and we'd done nothing to rectify that? It would be a massacre. So really, I'm doing this more for my sake than for you."

Bellamy smiled slightly and shook his head. "We've only all hung out once. What makes you think Clarke would make that big of a deal out of it?"

"Dude. She's like a serious momma bear, no joke. And your now one of her cubs. No, really, don't laugh-watch her sometime! She's done the finger lick of doom to me before in public!"

"Finger lick of doom?"

"Yeah! You know, where she'll look at you-say _you have something on your face_ and you'll reach up to try and find it. Then she'll say-_no wait, I got it_. Next thing you know, she's licking her finger and wiping food off your face." They were both laughing, Bellamy shaking his head in disbelief.

"She didn't." He'd never really been subjected to the 'finger lick of doom' before. His mother had always been too busy to worry about there being food on his face and he grew up fast enough that it didn't really matter. If he thought about it, he may have done it to Octavia before though, when they were younger.

"She did! And she'll fix your hair, or if you get hurt she gets this really tough voice going and she orders people around like an army doctor. You'll see."

He was kind of looking forward to it.

The gang was already gathered at Jasper and Monty's place by the time they got there. Still warm boxes of pizza sat on the counters in the kitchen and everyone jumped up to head for them after greeting Bellamy.

"Thank God." Monty groaned, opening one of the boxes and immediately stuffing half of the slice down his throat. "Clarke wouldn't let us eat until you guys got here."

Clarke's gaze was warm, yet narrowed as she watched everyone get their food from the doorway; almost as if she was making sure they all got their share before she grabbed her own plate. She gave Bellamy a fond smile when she caught him staring at her and walked over to him. "How's the leg?" She asked, breathing in deep when she'd reached him and her fingers grazed the inside of his elbow in greeting.

"Fine." He said, watching her with his own fond smile. "It's healing up." She was so oddly beautiful to him in all her little quirks. The way she gently touched him with purpose like he was something delicate was not the way he was used to being treated by girls. And he was pretty sure she spent most of the time smelling him. Coming from anyone else, this would've weirded him out, but Clarke pulled it off somehow and it only made him like her more. She was just so_ interestingly _beautiful.

"Good." She hummed and her fingers left him, the trail they'd made down his arm tingling. "Go get some food."

He did as she bid with that smile still in place.

He was half way through his second slice of sausage when he remembered the thing with his landlady. He was somewhat hesitant to say anything, but if they were really going to help him figure out who was determined to make his life miserable they should probably know all of the details.

"Someone told my landlady that I was selling drugs." He said lightly, and all other conversation in the room cut off. "I talked her out of kicking us out."

"What?" Jasper snapped in disbelief. The growling noise started up from Clarke again and the neat bites she'd been taking out of her pizza turned into violent gnawing.

"Dude. That's so not even cool." Monty said, shaking his head and while Bellamy was pretty sure this was the exact same thing the kid had said last time, everyone else in the room seemed to agree.

"_Selling drugs_?" Jasper repeated, mouth agape. "_You_? She can't seriously believe you would do that."

Bellamy just shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable with the attention and the intensive stares. "We don't talk often. She's not kicking me out, but I think she thought of it. I always pay my rent on time though and this was the first complaint she's gotten about us since we moved in a couple years ago, so I think she gave me the benefit of the doubt."

"You think it has something to do with the person who framed you at work." Clarke said, eyes fixed on him as she set her food down.

"I…" He tilted his head to the side and gave another shrug. "Well, it's too big of a coincidence, right? I get fired from work and now someone's trying to get me and Octavia thrown out on our asses."

She nodded, mouth a straight line of agitation. "Too big of a coincidence." She stood up suddenly, her body stiff like she was trying to hold something back. "I need some air. I'm going for a walk." And no one dared stop her as she made her way to the apartment door and left-_just left_.

They all stared quietly for a few minutes. "I didn't mean to upset her." Bellamy finally said, feeling flushed with worry. She hadn't looked at him again before leaving-she was always looking at him.

"She's angry." Wells said, back ram-rod straight as he watched the hall she'd disappeared down. "It's not your fault. It's whoever's trying to hurt you."

Bellamy nodded, still feeling uneasy without Clarke staring him down from her spot on the couch. As weird as it was, he found he liked her eyes on him.

Everyone went back to eating and talking, though the conversation was a little stilted. Jasper was still angry and kept huffing to himself every now and then. Wells kept his eyes trained on the hallway.

At some point, Bellamy turned his head to meet Finn's eyes and before the kid could hide it, he saw something there-something angry and sad before he went back to laughing quietly and wrapped an arm around Raven's shoulders.

Clarke's beast raged beneath her breast like a tidal wave, threatening to rip free from the confines of her skin and run-to hunt whatever _thing_ had decided to hurt one of her own. She was sick of this creature fighting from the shadows and manipulating. She wanted something to sink her teeth into.

Her canines thickened in her mouth and her gums ached as she relished the thought of ripping this aggressor's throat out-it almost hurt to drag herself back from the brink of transforming and force the beast down. _Jesus, what's wrong with me?_ She wanted to tear its throat out? That wasn't like her. Yet, here she was feeding her wolf thoughts of homicide while her mouth salivated and her heart sang for retribution.

Her wolf was confusing her with its volleying emotions. She wanted to kill and then she wanted to cuddle up to Bellamy while he smiled at her approvingly. God, she felt sick. She'd never killed anyone before and yet the image of her soaked in blood and wrapped in Bellamy's arms almost had her cooing in satisfaction.

She needed to run, to let the aggression out, but for the first time since she was a child she was worried she couldn't control her wolf. So, instead she sent a text to Jasper apologizing and saying she wasn't feeling well. And with her wolf growling at her-partly because she wasn't hunting and partly because she was missing out on time she could be spending with Bellamy-she headed home.

Abby would never forget the night she found out her husband, Jake Griffin, was a monster and that he'd spread his disease to their beautiful, baby girl. He'd hidden it well behind sweet, adoring smiles and loving kisses. It'd taken her until Clarke was eighteen to finally see him for what he was.

She'd just gotten back from work and was feeling excited because she'd been able to leave fairly early that day. Maybe her husband and Clarke would want to go out and see a movie, or something. It'd been a while since they'd been able to all spend time together. Setting her purse on the kitchen counter, she noticed movement out of the window through the curtain, her husband's name dying on her lips before she could call out that she was home.

She frowned in confusion, and then smiled. Maybe the two of them were playing catch out in the backyard. They used to do that a lot when Clarke was small-throw the ball around while he taught her how to pitch. While Abby would've preferred her daughter playing something a little more normal for girls her age, she'd never wanted to take away the time Jake had to bond with Clarke.

Abby walked to the window and drew back the curtain a little to peek outside, not wanting to interrupt them quite, yet. What she saw made her freeze and her whole body go cold. Jake stood outside in front of Clarke, both of them naked in the sun. Their clothes sat beside them in neat piles and Jake was talking, Clarke nodding at whatever he was saying to her. _What the hell is he doing?_ Her teeth gritted together and she fought her instinct to storm to the door and murder the son of a bitch, her first thought being that whatever they were doing was obviously sexual.

But no, she noticed the longer she watched that they were staring each other in the face, gazes never straying down. What _were_ they doing? The first couple years after Clarke had been born, they'd lived in a comfortable apartment in the city. Abby had been happy enough there, but Jake decided suddenly one day that he wanted to move outside the city limits-get a nice house with some land and scarce neighbors.

Abby hadn't cared much about it to fight him, so she'd let him have his way and they'd lived in their lovely house surrounded by woods ever since. All neighbors lived far enough away that they hardly ever got visitors and the trees insured privacy. _Privacy for what?_ Abby now wondered as she watched her husband suddenly hunch over himself, gripping his stomach like he was in pain.

Clarke watched him closely before hunching over as well, neck snapping back before falling to her knees in the grass. _Clarke!_ She almost scrambled for the door before something crawling up Jake's chest made her pause. But _no_, nothing was crawling up her husband's chest-_his chest was splitting open_. Like a ripe orange, fur burst forth, wet from blood and his mouth opened in a silent cry. His jaw tightened then cracked, eyes heating in their sockets. Her daughter's spine snapped to the side and Abby cried out in shock as she watched the bone break and lengthen, the vertebrae flexing and writhing like small fish swimming up her back.

In the end, she watched the whole thing, face pale and covered in damp sweat as the horror of what her family was became evident. In place of where her husband and daughter had stood only moments before were two, large wolves. They were as large as timber wolves, shaking their fur out, blood misting through the air. Jake was a darker blonde, the color of dying leaves in Autumn and Clarke was a dull yellow that seemed to shine nearly gold in the sun.

The wolves circled each other, the darker one giving the other an affectionate lick on the cheek before they took off into the dense forest together.

It'd taken her more than a decade to find out her husband had a monster lurking under his face-it took her a few more years to do something about it.

Clarke didn't come back that day and Bellamy left Jasper's place wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut. What exactly had he been trying to accomplish sharing that with them? Sympathy? All he'd done was upset everyone.

He'd made it up the first flight of stairs in his apartment building when a small voice stopped him. "Bellamy?" He turned mid-step to see a small slip of a girl standing in front of room 119, key poised and ready in the door lock.

Even though she was older since the last time he'd seen her, he recognized her instantly and smiled. "Charlotte! Hi, how are you doing? I didn't know you lived in this building." Charlotte smiled shyly at him, her dirty, blonde hair tied back into its familiar French braid and her pale cheeks briefly filling with color.

"You remember me." She murmured, sounding still unsure.

"Of course I do." He said warmly and her worried expression brightened a little. His mother died just before he turned eighteen and for a few months, Octavia and he had lived in a home together. Charlotte had lived there as well, only twelve at the time and both of her parents dead. She'd grown fond of following him around in his stay there and when the time had come to leave, she'd hugged him and cried, begging for him to take her with him. But he'd had Octavia to think about and as much as he didn't want to leave the poor girl, he didn't have enough in the world to hardly support just his sister. "You're not eighteen, yet." He said suddenly as he remembered she would only be fifteen, now. "Who are you living with?"

The worried expression she's always had when he saw her came back and she threw a glance at her apartment door. "My uncle. They located him almost a year ago and he agreed to take me in." The look on her face didn't make him feel any relief for her.

"Is he nice to you?" He pressed, a paternal anger making him want to pry.

"Nice enough." She shrugged sadly and he still wasn't satisfied with the answer.

"Well, if you ever…just want to take a break from him, you know you're free to come to my place. I live there with Octavia but I'm sure she wouldn't mind. We're room 327, okay?"

A slight smile brightened her face a little and she gave a nod. "I will, thanks Bellamy." A muffled yell came from within the apartment and her face darkened. "I'll have to talk to you later, okay?" And then she was gone, unlocking the door and slipping behind it before he could think of anything else to say.

What could he say? Did the man beat her? He worried over it as he made his way up to his apartment. His mother had never been the most attentive, but she'd kept them fed. All those times she'd gotten angry or drunk, never once did she hit either of them, though she wasn't always the nicest with her words. Bellamy had resented her the older he got, but he'd always understood why she was the way she was.

Still, he couldn't imagine living with someone who hit him-he hoped that wasn't the case with Charlotte. The girl was so small and sad, she didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

Octavia was in the living room when he got home and she looked up at him from her spot on the couch and gave a pretty smile. He smiled back and headed over to sit beside her. "So," She began quietly, "how was your day? Did you have fun?"

"I did." He answered, just as softly, both of them weary of raising their voices. "I have new friends." He wasn't sure why he shared that with her, but it seemed important. And saying it out loud made him feel good.

"You did?" She said, sounding pleased. "That's great, Bell. I'm happy for you. You need friends."

He agreed completely. "Want to watch one of your bride shows?"

"You mean you'll actually watch one with me?"

"For you? I'd watch two." The smile she sent this time was one he'd take care to remember the rest of his life.

**Sorry I bailed earlier tonight**. Was the message that he awoke to the next morning and he blinked a few times in confusion before noticing it'd been sent the just after he'd fallen asleep. The number wasn't one his phone remembered, but he knew instantly who it was.

**It's cool, really. I didn't mean to be such a downer and upset anyone**. He sent back and he added Clarke's number to his contact list with a smile.

He got up and started his routine getting ready for work, figuring she wouldn't text back for a few hours at least since it was so early. He was just getting out of the shower when he heard the cell phone chime, signaling he'd gotten a new message.

**Don't be silly. You didn't do anything wrong**. He smiled while reading it and typed back a quick message before finishing up and leaving for work.

**Thanks, Clarke. You're a good friend.**

_Ooh, friend zoned_. Clarke thought with a wince as she read her last message from Bellamy. She looked around her dark apartment and blinked tired eyes, wishing to be guarding her _friend _instead of wasting her time trying to fall asleep. She'd been too antsy the night before and even running herself ragged hadn't done a bit of good.

The beast inside her was scratching and pacing, wanting its freedom.

She hated it when she got like this. This was when everything in her wanted her father to be alive-like she could scarcely function without his wise words and proud smile. Clarke felt like a child and her eyes brimmed with tears as she bit her lip to hold herself together, arms laced on top of her knees.

_They'd done their regular stretch in the backyard before cracking open their bodies and letting their wolves out for the day. It was a blessing, as her father had told her many times, that they lived so far out from people and they were able to run free so much. When he'd lived in the city, her father had only got to change once every few weeks-just when the itchy burn in his skull got too much and it felt like the beast was going to claw its way out. _

_Clarke loved to run. She loved the stretch and pop of her bones and the way it felt like her paws never touched the ground. She loved when her father watched on with proud eyes and patted her head and called her 'swift-feet'. Nothing could catch her in her wolf form, not even her strong father with his own large paws and playful teeth. _

_She was eighteen now and though her mother urged her to widen her surroundings and attend a nearby college, she couldn't possibly imagine spending so much time in the city clogged with people and cars-no trees or grass to run in, no game to hunt. All she wanted to do was live in their quiet little house in the woods and run free with her father by the moonlight. Her father understood in that quiet way he always had and he told her to do whatever would make her happy. _

_It was mom's night to work late so after their stretch, they shed their clothes by the orange light of the sunset. Then, with anxious grins, they shed their skin as well, their true forms panting as they took flight from their cages. Clarke shook off her old skin, fur glinting as she pranced in a circle and watched the end of her father's own rebirth. He shook his fur out, jowls opening wide into a grin as he tilted a head towards the forest in question. _

_She took off at a sprint without need of further instruction, the familiar, light patter of her father's feet following behind her. She dashed over mounds, soared over tree limbs, and danced through clear brooks; startling fish and making her teeth chitter in laughter as she watched them scurry away. Her father kept up, though at his own leisurely pace, knowing well enough he couldn't hope to beat her at her own game. _

_She was drinking lazily from the brook when her ears picked up a noise up ahead through the brush-the crack of a twig, the crunch of a dead leaf. She crouched low and took off for the noise, her feet as light as snow fall as she hunted. She discovered her quarry soon enough, a large deer with soft, white speckles lining her spine grazed on some moss from a thick-trunked tree, her ears laid back on her head in trepidation. _

_Clarke watched on with interest, her mouth watering at the thought of swooping down on her intended prey and gnawing her way into its jugular. She was just aware of her father crouched low next to her, letting her take point. The deer looked up, its hair shivering in nervousness as it glanced around for any predators before going back to picking at the tree. _

_She shimmied, tail swinging as she decided now was the time to go for it. She reared up, putting all of her weight into her hind legs to push off of the ground and into the air, racing through the overgrowth. Her mouth was hanging open, ready to snap-_

**_-Crack-_**_! A mighty sound went through the clearing and the deer took off like a shot, Clarke sinking to the ground on impulse as her surprise turned to fear. That was a gunshot, she knew. Had she been shot? Another crack and she heard a whimper behind her. _

_Her heart leapt into her throat and she whined back, turning slowly around and making her way back to the brush where she'd left her father, making sure to stay low to the ground to better avoid getting a round shot through her. Her father's form lay on the ground, back into his human skin as his wolf features faded from his face along with the puddles of blood he seemed to be losing from two bullet holes. One was in the middle of his chest, more towards the right side-not life threatening if she were to get him to a hospital before he bled out. But the second shot was straight through one side of his neck, a couple inches below his ear and there was no exit wound. _

_She was falling back into her human form without ever making the conscious decision to do so, the choked whining slowly becoming more human as her vocal cords reformed. "Da-daddy." She sobbed, newly formed fingers gripping the holes and trying to stop the bleeding. His eyes roved aimlessly about in pain and she panicked, packing dirt into the wounds instead, willing to risk the chance of infection as long as the bleeding stopped. "You're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine." She gasped, body tensing in determination. "I'm just going to stop the bleeding, okay? And then-then…I'll get you to the car. We're not that far, really, you're going to be just fine." Her cheeks were damp and she let the tears run without bothering to wipe them away, her curly hair wild and getting stuck to her face, her body shaking as she struggled to remain calm._

_"__C-Clarke." Her father suddenly said, blood soaking his lips and spurting grotesquely out of the hole in his neck. She was surprised he could speak at all- that bullet was still lodged in there somewhere. "Take care…of y-your m-m-mother. I love you."_

_She didn't want to say good-bye and yet that was what he was doing. She opened her mouth to deny his plea to let go-to tell him to fight and keep fighting. "I love y-you, too." Was what came out instead and she reached out a dirty hand to touch his tanned cheek wrinkled by old laugh lines and new pain. _

_The light died in his eyes and her monster howled for blood._

Jasper seemed a little off this morning, his eyes a little more shifty than normal and his mannerisms just a little more forced. Bellamy couldn't be sure, of course. He wasn't good at reading emotion and he especially wasn't any good at hiding his own. So, at lunch he decided to _cautiously_ approach the situation and find out what was wrong with his friend before his nervousness drove Bellamy insane.

"What the hell's up with you today, Jasper?" He blurted out, eyes narrowed on the younger boy.

Jasper choked on his soda in surprise, spilling some down his shirt. "Wha-what?" He sputtered, trying to wipe away some of the mess from his face and setting down his drink. _ Subtle is my middle name._

"You're acting…funny today. Funnier than normal. Out with it-is it about me getting framed and stuff?"

"You don't seem properly worried about it." Jasper replied, sounding a bit cross. "It's a big deal, Bell and I don't know that you're taking it as seriously as you should. What have you done to find out who's been framing you?"

_Not taking it seriously?_ Bellamy took a deep breath and tried not to snap. His temper always seemed to get the better of him, but Jasper was his friend and was only acting concerned. "Truthfully? Nothing really. It's serious, I know it is but I need to find another job first before I can let myself get into that. Rent will come up fast and I only have a little saved up."

"Someone's trying to get you kicked out of your home!" Jasper snapped out in exasperation, throwing his hands up as if he were begging for patience from the big man upstairs. "Someone is targeting you and it's pretty fucking personal! What if they take it to the next level? What if someone gets hurt?"

Blinking in surprise, Bellamy sat back, taking in his friend's manic behavior. He'd never heard Jasper this way-never heard him curse out of anger. "Are…are we having a fight?" He asked slowly, confused.

Jasper sent him a scornful look and stood up, throwing his uneaten food back into his lunch box. "I can't with you." He left Bellamy alone in the break area.

Bellamy stared at his own food for a while before shrugging and continuing his meal in silence. He barely tasted it. When lunch was over he went back onto the floor and back to work. It wasn't the same. Jasper avoided looking at him the rest of the day and they didn't say a word to each other before clocking out and going their separate ways home.

Bellamy didn't like it. It was nearly as stressful as when Octavia was upset with him and he really just wanted to apologize for whatever he'd done. Sadly, according to what he knew about fighting with his sister, it helped with your sincerity to know what you were apologizing for. He could apologize for obviously pissing off the wrong person? Or maybe for not pressing his ex-boss at the bar further about who "witnessed" him acting shifty? But he kind of had a feeling that this wasn't really what his friend was upset about.

Although he didn't really walk about at night anymore, he was still on high alert, so he heard the sound of someone approaching before they could come up behind him. Whirling around with his fist raised, he came face to face with Charlotte. The poor thing went tense and curled in on herself in fear, her face as pale as milk and her eyes as sad as ever. Instantly he felt like the worst human being on the planet and put his hand down, relaxing his stance.

"Charlotte? I'm sorry, you scared me. What are you doing out here?" He said, probably gruffer than intended but he was still a little shaken up. He'd almost _hit_ her. After coming to the conclusion that the man she was stuck living with might be hitting her the last thing Bellamy wanted was to be another person on the list of people who'd hurt Charlotte. She reminded him a little of how Octavia used to be when their mother was still alive and the thought of hurting her made him gag.

"I-I just…" She stuttered, looking lost. Her small hands clenched into trembling fist that she pressed to her chest as she stared up at him forlornly. The ratty sleeve of her jacket fell a little and that was when he caught sight of the deep, purple ring around her tiny wrist.

"What happened?" He snapped out and grabbed her to pull her arm closer. She let out a pained whimper and he froze, dropping her limb like it'd caught fire. Teeth grinding together in frustration and anger, he took a step back, trying to calm himself down before he freaked her out even more. "Charlotte, who did this to you? Is it that guy you're living with?"

Charlotte's breathing came fast and her eyes looked like she was about to start crying as she held her injured arm close to herself and avoided his gaze. "It's nothing Bellamy, really. It was an accident."

"Bullshit."

She flinched and he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I can take care of myself. I have for a long time now." This time he was the one to flinch a little as he remembered the petite girl as weak as a bird clinging to him and begging him to take her with him. "Anyways, I just saw you on the street…I wanted to say hi."

The thought of her walking back to a home where someone hurt her made him want to scream and hit things. "Why don't you come with me back to my place?" He asked suddenly, surprising himself. "You can hang out for as long as you'd like."

The sadness brightened up a little and she looked almost a little pleased, as if she'd been hoping for this outcome but had been too apprehensive to ask. Then the happiness dimmed a little. "Is Octavia going to be there?"

Bellamy blinked in confusion. "No. She should be at work for another few hours. Why?" Then a thought came to him. "Oh, uh, if you're nervous about being alone with me, I'd understand."

Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. "No. No I don't mind. Please, can I hang out at your place for a while?"

And how could he possibly say no to that?

They walked home together, both of them as silent as the dead. Bellamy wasn't much of a talker and Charlotte was too timid to hold a conversation so they let the hectic sounds of afternoon traffic fill the silence for them. He walked slower to match her pace, hands tucked into the pockets of his grease stained jeans and she kept her head down, hands wringing together. They made quite a pair. Eventually they made it back to the apartment building, both of them glancing at Charlotte's apartment door before carrying on upstairs.

"Um, do you want something to drink?" He asked unsurely when they'd made it inside and he'd locked the door securely behind him, even throwing the deadbolt for good measure. You never knew when mugging teenagers or huge-ass wolves might swoop in and dick up your life.

"I-well, maybe…" She cut herself off, biting her lip. That hand twisting thing was getting on his nerves a little.

"How about an off-brand soda?" He asked, smiling when he saw her smile and nod. "Next time just say what you want, kid. Worst thing I could do is tell you no." He handed her a cola can on the way into the living room and she followed wearily after him.

They sat next to each other on the couch watching whatever wasn't the news or a sports game. He wasn't really paying attention to anything when he noticed a patch of dark, brown hair tucked into Charlotte's braid, just below her ear. "Hey, where'd this come from?" He reached out to touch it and was surprised when she jerked away from him hard, nearly knocking his own soda out of his hand. "Whoa!"

"It's nothing!" She screeched, nearly in a frenzy as she shot up from the couch.

"Okay! It's cool, I won't ask about it again." He soothed, hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out."

"You didn't." She huffed defiantly and yet it took him another five minutes before he could convince her it was alright to sit on the couch again.

All had been going well-and by _well _he meant that they'd sat on the couch without talking and blankly stared at the television-when Octavia came home and everything seemed to take a very odd turn for him. The second the girls had set eyes on each other, Octavia had thrown her stuff onto the counter and pointed, hissing out, "You! What the hell are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Charlotte replied snottily and got to her feet, arms crossed over her chest and hip cocked to the side. Bellamy's jaw dropped in shock at the formerly-innocent girl's newfound attitude. _What the hell was going on here_?

"Leaving, you little skank." Octavia held open their front door and motioned towards it, eyes sweltering.

All of that attitude suddenly disappeared and she went back to timid, sweet little Charlotte again as she turned to him with wide, imploring eyes. "Bellamy, please, I don't want to go back, yet!" She pleaded.

"I-what-What the hell is going on?" He demanded and decided that he too would stand. Somehow it felt almost dangerous not to. "You guys used to be friends! What happened?"

Octavia scoffed and rolled her eyes and Charlotte looked faintly disgusted. "We were pretending-for your sake, big brother. But I'm completely done with this shit and I refuse to have her here in my own home. So, whatever you came for, get it somewhere else, you lying cow because you aren't getting it from Bellamy." She ushered at Charlotte to leave, all the while the younger girl had returned to giving him the puppy-dog face.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte." He said and he kind of was, but at the same time he was mostly just flabbergasted. "But this is Octavia's home, too. I'll see you later, okay? "

The change in the girl's demeanor was startling as she snarled at him and tensed, fists clenched like she wanted to hit him. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched to the front door, snapping at Octavia's fingers when she waved them smugly. "Bye-bye now!" Octavia sang and she slammed the door behind her.

"Want to explain that?" Bellamy asked slowly when she finally turned to face him, face tensed up in resignation.

"It's a girl thing, Bell. I don't trust her and I think you should avoid her, okay? She wants something from you." Her face was wrinkled in displeasure as she started to take off her shoes, grabbing a soda can from out of the fridge and cracking it open as she avoided his probing gaze.

"I don't understand. What could she possibly want from me?"

"Jesus, you can't even guess? She wants you, dumbass. I'm not exactly sure what kind of relationship she's after, but she's been fighting for it since she first laid eyes on you at the home. Just stay clear of her, okay?" Huffing, she slipped past him to sit on the couch.

Slowly, he sat, too, staring blankly at the TV screen. "But…she's just a kid." He stated, forcing his brain not to think about it.

Octavia rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure it's even a sexual thing, Bell. I just know that it's there. Like she freaking imprinted on you or something."

"Like _Twilight_?"

"How do you even know that?"

"I'll never tell."

She laughed at his mischievous smile and shook her head. "Then, yes, like _Twilight_. Or like a duck, or something. She wants whatever you have to offer and she doesn't like competition for her affection."

"How do you know all this?" He wondered, but she just shook her head again and focused on the TV, waving off anymore of his attempts to talk.

"Just stay away from her and you won't have to worry about it." Was all she would say, but he wasn't sure he could do that. The sad eyes got him every time.

There was a sharp knock on her front door and Clarke knew from experience alone that it was her mother. _No, please not now_. She groaned quietly from her place on the bed-the exact same spot she'd been in for the last twelve hours or so. She hadn't even gotten up to go to any of her classes and that pathology lab was going to be a pain in the ass to make up.

_Dr. Abby Griffin_ had probably set it up so that the teachers at the University would call her if Clarke didn't show up to class. That would be just like her.

"Clarke?" Her mother's voice called from the other side of her door, the irritation and worry so congealed together it was difficult to know what the woman was feeling. "Clarke, honey, I know you're there, just open the door." Of course she knew, she'd probably asked the neighbors if they'd seen her leave today.

Clarke wrinkled her nose, fingers reaching up lazily to feel the top of her head and recoiling when it met the grease collected in her hair. Her mouth was dry and tasted like death and her eyes hurt so much she could hardly keep them open. _By God, she was tired_. There was no way she could open the door and let her mother see her like this.

How had it gotten this bad? First, she'd been angry-_furious-blood thirsty_, but then she'd grown disgusted with herself and then that had led to her missing her father. And now she was numb. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with herself-therefor, she decided to do nothing. She couldn't even fall asleep and she was beyond exhausted.

"Clarke!" Her mother was definitely leaning more towards anger now, the doorknob jiggling around wildly. It was a good thing she hadn't given her a key.

Her phone pinged and lit up beside her on the bed and her mother's efforts doubled at the sound. **Hey.** Was all the message said, which wasn't _wow_ worthy. But when she saw it'd come from Bellamy, her stomach flipped and she smiled.

**Okay, there are definitely some mistakes in here, but I'm really tired of looking for them. I've been re-reading and drafting this story for since before Season 2 and I really just want to post it. So, here it is! Truthfully, I think I'm immune to all of the grammer and plot issues by now-It's like I don't even see them in this story anymore and I know they're there. So, I'm very sorry and I hope you enjoy this story anyways. ^^**


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